ChanKillDietho
by Wolfgang Van Schoule
Summary: Proffessor Yana  is the Master, and Chantho is the last of her kind. But once, Yana was a human with one just one name, and Chantho was just an ambitious child. The following chronicles the journey from the latter to the former:


**Read & review: This is my first fan-fiction, so be brutally honest, so as to prevent stylistic mistakes from developing into bad habits. Welcome to my story, suchlike and so on; without further ado: **

**PROLOGUE**

On a small asteroid, alone in the TARDIS, I sat quivering in utter terror. I, the Master, destroyer of species, conqueror of worlds, one of the most terrifying Timelords in all of the known Universe, was shivering in a phoetal position. There was simply nothing more that I could do at this point.

The Draft was coming. They would find me, and when they did, I'd have no choice but to fight their war. I'd run calculations. Every last formula I plugged the numbers into said that a war between Timelords and Daleks would be fatal for both species. To give in would have been practically suicidal.

Still, it didn't seem sitting here scared out of my mind and hoping it would go away would do anything. I got up, propping myself up on one of the five equidistant black stone pillars that surrounded the console. Before the red pillar that held the heart of the TARDIS laid the intricate dashboard that was the console. I staggered towards it and toggled voice interface to "on".

The face of the Rani* appeared. Her hair was tucked back neatly behind her ears. She had the face of her Timelady self, with all its structure and tone, but adorned with a smile of the sort she hadn't had since she was a schoolgirl. She was dead for Omega's sake. It was pathetic of me to hang on to her like this; I knew. We'd never even liked each other when she was alive! So why couldn't I just get rid of it, just toggle the interface to another face, just- anything.

_Ba-ba-ba-ba Ba-ba-ba-ba_

The drums called me back to reality. I decided I'd just go to the end of the Universe. I'd be hard to find _there._ "System, where can I go safely to the heat death of the Universe?"

The system replied in a cold, monotone imitation of the Rani's voice. "The planet Malcassairo remains hospitable until very near the end of time. The TARDIS could reach any point on that world, from your current position, with approx. 72% accuracy."

"Yeh." I said "They'll never find me so far into time. I'll be safe." Though I tried to reassure myself, the drums just grew louder in my mind.

_BA-ba-ba-ba Ba-ba-ba-ba_

"Chances of success undergoing this course of action: 1.667%" The V.I. informed me in its horrible monotone.

"Well, what can I do? I don't want them to find me." I said. The drums grew louder; I strained to hear anything at all. Anything but that bloody noise!

I barely managed to make out what the V.I. was saying, but I did hear it. "The primary population of Malcassairo is human. To avoid Timelord detection, become human."

"I'm never becoming a blasted ape! And you aren't the Rani, you're just a mockery of her. A hideous, mechanical mockery!"

"Then your chances of success are: 1.667%" Replied the cold face. It could put on any expression it pleased; it would be cold. Nothing like the real Rani. There's no number of lines of code that could ever bring her back.

"Do they really care about each individual Timelord?"

"You've already failed them once. Please recall the events surrounding the crucible."

That shook me. I realized _it_ was right. "Fine! Just do it. Let's get it over with."

"First remember: you are not alone."

"'Cause I can understand that. It's just so wonderfully non-cryptic, and bloody useful, too! Make a pneumonic out of it why don't you, in case I forget ?"

The V.I. did not understand my sarcasm. "Y-A-N-A. Yana."

"Just turn on the Chameleon Arch. Give me the headset."

The headset descended from the ceiling. Immediately as I placed it on my head, a sharp burning sensation started crawling up my back. It felt like a thousand tiny little spiders, with knives for feet, were festering about me.

I felt a distinct searing sensation in my hearts, as the one on the right painfully dissolved. I was feeling quite nauseous past that point, but I couldn't really complain, considering other, more painful, sensations. My eyes felt as though they were being pushed through a screen door, and closing them did not help in the slightest.

_ Y_

I laughed. What more could I do? It felt as though barbed wire was being pulled through my intestines. So I giggled. I felt my neck being pulled apart. So I guffawed. I became distinctly aware of my entire form as every last bit of it got twisted in the most indescribably horrible way. So I began cackling hysterically. Over the cackles were only the last things spoken to me-

_A_

-and those ever-present drums.

_Ba-ba-ba-ba Ba-ba-ba-ba_

As my memories dissolved like salt in some masochistic water, I began reliving them:

_I was eight. The untempered schism was before me. The Timelords chose me, out of all Gallifrey, to look upon it. I wanted to close my eyes. I wanted to close them so badly, to block out what I was seeing. But If I did that, my father and mother would be disappointed. _

_They wouldn't say it, but they had a wonderfully Gallifreyan way of showing disappointment, or loathing. I'd seen it in action before. For my parents didn't show anger through what they said or did. Rather that indescribable quality that they'd had towards anyone whom they talked to simply fell away. And never, ever came back. _

_This thought scared me more than the sonic cane. More than the Cacaphonous Detention, even. It scared me enough to look at things that I'll never be able to describe. It scared me into looking into the vortex._

_The drums were there, but then, they were real. This was the moment they had been engraved, as in stone, in my mind, from whence they would never leave._

I laughed again, but I couldn't remember what about. It was all a great blur. My whole life was, when I tried to recall anything. A bunch of meaningless phrases, floating about. All I could remember were recent events, and the Rani's face.

_N_

Another memory, what seemed like one of the last I had left, hit me:

_My previous regeneration. The Gallifreyan guards were after me, having tracked me innumerable light year. We had reached a ledge of bleak stone. I was cornered. So I turned to face my pursuers, closed my eyes spread out my arms, and fell as if someone was there to catch me. No one was. You might find it funny that I did this, but I didn't. I found it _hilarious.

_So I laughed. I laughed as I fell crashing to the ground. Others would have screamed in sheer terror during such a descent, but I laughed in the mad voice of a man who's been laughing all his life._

_A_

At that point I forgot who I was. I was being transferred by tractor beam from one starship to another, to the planet Malcassairo. The beam tinted my view of everything a pale yellowish green. As I stared at the bottom of the gray crater, and at how far away it was, I was scared. About twenty meters** distance, and nothing solid holding me up.

Just as I was contemplating this, the green color dissipated from my view. And I was falling. I writhed and screamedlike an Idiot. In that moment, I suddenly recalled who I was:

_Yana._

**Prologue Footnotes:**

*The Rani: Old Who villainess. She was so obsessed with scientific experimentation that she grew amoral, and apathetic about the fate of her subjects and even herself. She appeared in two serials, in one of which, she teamed up with the Master. Well there was this one spec-no. Just those two serials. Never appeared again after she actually died on screen.

**All measurements in-story would be in Futurekind's own system. As a translation convention, they'll be in metric, due to the fact that making up units would make most measurements lose their effect (e.g. The tower must have been a hundred frumdilooms tall!)


End file.
